


A Chapel in Deya

by SpicyChestnut



Series: No Regrets [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Marriage, Prompt Fic, Romance, Secret Wedding, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 19:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyChestnut/pseuds/SpicyChestnut
Summary: "What if… what if we don't succeed? If I can't unlock my powers in time—what if this is just… the end?" Link remained silent for some time. He gazed down at her thoughtfully, eyes full of quiet adoration. When he spoke, his words were soft. "Marry me." BOTW ZeLink - established relationship. Tumblr prompt fic for fluffy pre-calamity secret wedding. Slight crossover with TP.





	A Chapel in Deya

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aude/gifts).



> Caliope: pronounced Kuh-lie-oh-pee

Zelda felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as she approached the plain wooden double doors, and she clutched her bouquet a little bit tighter. Part of her still couldn’t believe this was happening. She had never before defied her father or the court in such a way; but their time together was growing short. The signs of the Calamity’s return had never been more prevalent, and her power still hovered just out of reach. Who knew what would happen if she failed to unlock it? If she were to die at the hands of the great beast, what would be her greatest regret?

She’d been talking with Link about these very worries as they journeyed back to the castle, resting for the afternoon under the shade of a willow along the banks of Lake Hylia, her head in his lap as she gazed out at the still waters. Link’s fingers threaded gently through her hair and she sighed softly before voicing her thoughts.

“What if… what if we don’t succeed? If I can’t unlock my powers in time—what if this is just… the end?”

Link remained quiet for some time. As his silence stretched she turned her head to look up at him, attempting to discern his unspoken thoughts. He was gazing down at her thoughtfully, eyes full of quiet adoration. His fingers moved from her hair to cup her cheek, and when he spoke, his words were soft.

“Marry me,” he said, running his thumb over the rise of her cheek bone. Her eyes widened a fraction and she sat up on her elbows, heart beating faster.

“What?” she asked breathlessly, fearing she must have misheard him. None knew of their secret affair, not even Urbosa. She knew her father would be furious to find out she had allowed herself such a distraction as falling in love, let alone that she was courting someone below her station. How could they possibly marry?

“It’s the only regret I would have,” he answered quietly, continuing to look at her with that same intent gaze.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said as her mouth was halfway to voicing objection. “There’s a small village just over the hills to the east. I visited once many years ago. Most live their whole lives there, and few ever leave. If we disguised ourselves… no one would recognize us.”

There was an unspoken plea in his voice, and she felt her stomach swoop. It was rare that he would ever ask her for anything, let alone with any sort of desperation. He… really wanted this. And if she were honest with herself, now that she allowed the possibility to enter her mind—so did she.

Zelda felt at a loss for words. “You… you really…”

Smiling, Link leaned forward and plucked a long, thin, blade of grass from the ground, then took her left hand. She gazed down as, with deft, careful movements, he gently tied the blade of grass around her ring finger. Then, he glanced up at her, and the look in his eyes stole her breath.

“Will you marry me, Zelda?” he asked quietly, voice thick with unspoken emotion.

Her heart beat a rapid rhythm in her chest. Time seemed to momentarily slow as she held his gaze, her cheeks dusting pink and her hand trembling in his. A quiet wedding all their own, where they could shed their mantle of responsibility and simply be two people in love. It was more than she dared hope for.

“Yes,” she answered breathlessly, tears welling in her eyes and a tremulous smile rising to her face, a similar smile gracing his. He then leaned forward, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss, passion burning beneath the surface—a passion they spent the rest of the afternoon exploring.

-:-:-:-:-

It took them a day to reach Deya village, where they arrived dressed in plain cotton clothes. The village was small, a mere handful of homesteads hidden away in a long, narrow valley surrounded by tall hills—the Hills of Baumer to the north and west, the Farosh Hills to the south, and the Popola foothills to the east. Enormous, ancient trees rose high above the valley, dappling the village in shade. There was a single entrance, a narrow ravine which cut through the Baumer hills’ rocky terrain; one would easily miss it if they didn’t know what to look for.

They were greeted by the village mayor, a barrel-chested man named Bo, who inquired politely, if suspiciously, as to who they were and what their business in the village was.

“We don’t get many outsiders,” he said by way of explanation, “What brings you to Deya?”

They introduced themselves by their middle names—Caliope and Airen. When they explained the reason for their intrusion—that they were eloping and hoped to use the village’s small chapel for a wedding ceremony, Bo’s suspicion immediately melted into boyish glee.

“A wedding! Why, we haven’t seen a wedding here in, gosh, must be a decade now! We’d be delighted to host you!”

His excitable words must have echoed, as not moments later heads began to peek out of doorways and windows, brows quirked in curiosity. One by one the village residents began to file into the center of town, and as they did Bo began introductions: his daughter, Illia, a kindly blond-haired girl around Zelda’s age; Rusl—the town guard, his wife Uli, their shy ten-year-old son Colin, and their chubby-faced infant daughter Aria; Sera—a large, boisterous woman and the resident shopkeeper, her husband Hanch—a gangly, timid, moustached man, and their precocious twelve year old daughter Beth; Jaggle—a woodworker and craftsman responsible for the simple but charming homes which dotted the valley, his hard-working wife Pergie, and their two sons: twelve year old Talo, and the precocious, if brusque, Malo; and Fado, a friendly young man not much older than Link who ran the village ranch at the rear of the valley.

The townsfolk were warm and welcoming, especially when Bo referred to her as the “bride-to-be”, and Zelda found herself almost overwhelmed by their enthusiasm. The last wedding the village had hosted, Rusl informed them, had been his and Uli’s some twelve years prior; and they would likely not see another until Ilia chose to wed—a prospect which, the woman in question insisted, was likely many years off.

Link merely smiled serenely amidst the rabble as he held her hand, letting the townsfolk fawn over him. Periodically he would offer her reassuring glances out of the corner of his eye; and so she, too, settled in to the village’s enthusiasm, squeezing his hand in hers as she, for the first time since Link proposed, let her excitement free.

After their introductions were made, Zelda was unceremoniously carted off by Ilia, despite her protestations, and Link likewise by Fado.

“You musn’t see the bride before the wedding!” Uli had sternly, if playfully, informed the pair as she followed after Ilia into Sera’s shop, while Link was dragged off to Fado’s ranch. The large woman greeted the group with an enthused smile, leading them to the small clothing section of her shop where a sparse array of simple dresses hung on hooks along the wall.

“I don’t have any wedding gowns,” Sera informed her sadly as the three browsed her wares, “But I suspect Pergie can make one of these dresses work for you. She’s a marvel with a needle and thread.”

And so Zelda found herself spending the rest of the afternoon atop an old wooden crate, surrendering herself to the excitable women as Pergie danced around her, eagerly taking measurements and holding swaths of fabric against her figure as she modified a plain cream colored linen dress, slowly transforming it into a simple but elegant wedding gown.

Taking a brief break midday, Ilia and Uli escorted Zelda to a fresh water spring on the western side of the valley, along which flowers grew in abundance. Together the women picked a selection to serve as her bouquet—baby’s breath, cool safflina, and a small number of Silent Princesses (Zelda couldn’t bring herself to pick more than a few), wrapping their stems in a pale blue ribbon and placing them in a vase filled with cool spring water for the ceremony the next evening.

By the end of the day the dress was complete. Though Pergie nursed sore fingers, she beamed the brightest as Zelda tried on her gown for the first time before the women of the village, twisting and turning in front of a small mirror held by Uli in her cozy little cottage. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw her reflection. Pergie had cut away at the neckline until it swooped elegantly from one shoulder to the other. The bodice had been taken in to be more form-fitting, and the skirt taken out to create an A-line flare. Though it was far from the ornate lace and lengthy trains of noble women’s wedding gowns—the sort she always assumed she would one day wear—she looked like a proper bride. She smiled broadly, feeling her eyes moisten as she smoothed out the front of her dress with shaking hands. It was perfect.

The women in the cottage squealed with delight.

The next morning, as she awoke from a futon on the floor of Uli’s living room, she was plagued with butterflies. She didn’t quite know why. Though she had initially been overwhelmed by the village’s enthusiasm, she had since relaxed into the idea of a proper wedding, and was even starting to look quite forward to it. And though she couldn’t be happier to be marrying Link, she couldn’t seem to shake the feeling. When she shared this with Uli over breakfast, the older woman only smiled, a knowing twinkle in her eye as she placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“That’s the way with weddings, my dear. Just wait until you see him at the altar—then, all will be right with the world.”

Throughout the afternoon the men of the village arranged tables and chairs and torches in the center of town under Sera’s barking guidance while Pergie and Uli prepared dish after dish over the stove in Uli’s house, chatting animatedly as they chopped and diced and steamed and sauteed. Ilia sat with Zelda who, at Uli’s insistence, was to remain hidden in her home until the ceremony that evening.

“So how did you meet Airen?” inquired Ilia as she leaned over the kitchen table, nimbly fashioning a crown of flowers out of baby’s breath and cool safflina. Zelda bit her lip, contemplating how to answer the question, choosing to at least give a partial truth to the people who had shown her such kindness.

“He saved me from the Yiga,” she said, smiling softly at the memory, “I was being chased and he jumped in front of me, landing a blow to one and scaring off the others.”

Ilia gasped, eyes going wide as she pulled her hands against her heart. “Oh, that’s so brave—and so romantic! I’ve heard of that dreadful Yiga clan. That must have been so frightening!” Zelda nodded her head, unable to keep the fond smile from her face. Uli turned, a bowl in one hand and wooden spoon in the other as she stirred its soupy contents.

“Airen is good with a sword?” she inquired curiously, and Zelda nodded. “Oh, I’ll have to tell Rusl! He has so few to spar with. Fado’s a good lad, but his form is just… well, not quite up to snuff.”

Zelda tried to stifle the grin she felt rising to her face. “I’m sure L—Airen would love to spar; but I must warn you, he is quite talented.”

Uli laughed. “All the better! Rusl could use a challenge.”

By late afternoon, Zelda found herself once more in her wedding gown, seated on a stool as Ilia and Beth wove small braids into her long, flaxen hair. The women had departed an hour earlier to clean and change, and were now all dressed in their finest gowns, chatting excitedly about the upcoming ceremony. The butterflies had returned, distracting her somewhat from conversation, though despite it she felt excitement rising within her.

Soon her braids were finished, and Ilia stood before her, gently placing the crown of flowers on her bowed head, uttering softly, “You look so beautiful.” And as she looked at herself in the mirror one final time, she had to agree. Biting her lip, a soft smile rising unbidden, she hoped Link thought so as well.

As the sun began to lower, Uli and Ilia escorted her to the village’s small chapel, each giving her a tight hug as they slipped inside, shutting the doors quietly behind him. And so she waited, feeling butterflies erupt in her stomach as she stood before the plain wooden double doors, clutching her bouquet a little bit tighter.

As the sun set it painted the sky in brilliant shades of pink and orange, shining golden light shining onto the chapel’s narrow bell tower. Restless crickets chirped in the tall grass beyond the edge of the village, and a soft breeze tickled her cheeks. She smiled.

She wasn’t waiting long before she heard her cue to enter—the low melodic tones of Colin’s wooden flute floating on the breeze. The doors slowly swung inward, and she took a breath, stepping forth onto an aisle littered with the vibrant petals of blue nightshade. The whole village had gathered, standing in the pews and gazing at her with tender smiles. A tall arched window covered the far wall, brightly colored panes illuminated by the setting sun and casting the room and the carved wooden Goddess statue in a rainbow glow; but she paid little attention, her eyes locked on the handsome man standing at the altar.

He was dressed simply, still wearing his brown leather boots and tan trousers; but in place of the plain cream colored shirt he’d arrived in, he now wore a deep blue linen shirt tucked in loosely, sleeves long and cuffed, an embroidered collar held together at the front with three small buttons. But what most drew her eye—held her gaze and knocked the wind from her lungs, was the way he stared at her: eyes wide and intent, held in rapture upon her, oblivious to the world around them.

Her heart beat faster, Colin’s flute fading from her awareness as she moved slowly closer. Her eyes never left his, and she could feel a tremulous smile blossoming upon her lips, her eyes tearing as ecstatic joy overtook her wholly.

Today, she was not the Princess of Hyrule, no; today, she was Zelda, simply Zelda—and on this beautiful, magical evening, she was marrying Link. Her life had been many things: painful, chaotic, difficult—even seemingly impossible. She had despaired at her fate, had struggled against her own sense of overwhelming inadequacy; But then Link entered her life, and everything changed. Now, what mattered most—the thing her world revolved around—grew closer with each step. He was her protector, her friend, her confidant—but most importantly, the love of her life.

As she reached the altar, the music ceased, and Mayor Bo beamed down at them. Ilia rose from the front row to take her bouquet, and, now unburdened, Link reached forward to take her hands in his own, his thumbs stroking the backs of her hands. He gazed at her, eyes wide and bright and full of love, and she felt her eyes grow wet.

“Friends; Caliope, Airen…

We have gathered before the eyes of the Goddess to perform that most sacred of ceremonies; joining the lives and hearts of two people, together—forevermore—in the bonds of marriage.

Such a commitment is the truest declaration of love—to cast off the life of an individual, in exchange for the life of a partner. It is not a commitment not to be entered into lightly, but soberly and reverently. It is a commitment that demands the best of ourselves: our attentiveness, our understanding, a willingness to compromise, and the fiercest love.

It is into this commitment we now join Caliope and Airen.”

Bo then turned to Link.

“Airen, please repeat after me. I take you, Caliope, to be my wife.”

Link held her gaze, eyes filled with a deep love, as he repeated Bo’s words quietly. “I take you, Caliope, to be my wife.”

Zelda felt a lump form in her throat.

“I promise to love you, to honor you, and to be there for you no matter what the future holds.”

Link squeezed her hand gently as he repeated the words. “I promise to love you, to honor you, and to be there for you… no matter what the future holds.” Though he couldn’t say it outright, she recognized the tone in his voice—and his hidden promise. No matter what the calamity brings, I will be by your side.

“I give myself to you with all my faults, and all my strengths, and accept from you the same.”

Link’s voice echoed the words. “I give myself to you with all my faults, and all my strengths, and accept from you the same.”

“I promise to be true, and remain by your side for all of my days.”

His smile did not falter, though she could see the weight he knew those words held behind his eyes.“I promise to be true, and to remain by your side for all of my days.” She felt the lump in her throat tighten.

“Now, Caliope, please repeat after me. I take you, Airen, to be my husband.”

She smiled, finding her voice suddenly weak. “I take you, Airen, to be my husband.”

“I promise to love you, to honor you, and to be there for you no matter what the future holds.”

“I promise to love you—” her voice broke and she swallowed back the lump in her throat. Link gently squeezed her hand. “—to honor you, and to be there for you—no matter what the future holds.”

“I give myself to you with all my faults, and all my strengths, and accept from you the same.”

“I give myself to you with all my faults, and all my strengths, and accept from you the same.” She knew her faults were many, and may very well be the end of all things; but he gave her strength—he gave her courage. She would be the best of herself, always—for him.

“I promise to be true, and to remain by your side for all of my days.”

“I promise to be true, and to remain by your side for all of my days.” She squeezed his hand, feeling her smile tremble. She hoped their days together would be many, that perhaps they could defeat the calamity, and after, reconcile their marriage with her father. She never thought she would wish so fiercely for such a confrontation to be.

Bo smiled, placing his hands over their joined ones.

“Before the eyes of the Goddess and before these witnesses, you both have spoken to one another the promises and vows that will forevermore signify your commitment to this most sacred of estates. With the power vested in me as mayor of Deya Village—I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

His smile broadened as he turned to Link. “You may kiss your bride,” then he turned to Zelda, “And you may kiss your husband.”

Link looked at her then with a smile brighter than the sun, and her heart fluttered, a broad smile of her own pulling at her cheeks. Gently his hands pulled on hers, drawing her closer; then he released her, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other around her neck as he pulled her into him. His lips met hers, warm and soft and wanting, moving against hers as applause erupted within the small chapel—but she barely registered the sound, hearing only the beating of her own heart as Link held her close.

She had never felt happier.

-:-:-:-:-

After the ceremony, they retreated to the village square for what she thought was to be a simple dinner; but the townsfolk had gone above and beyond. Zelda and Link sat side-by-side at the head of a long, wide table which had been placed in the center of town and covered in a hodgepodge of mismatched table cloths pulled from every home. Lanterns and pillar candles were placed along the table and tall torches had been buried in the soil, arranged in a large oval around them and creating a warm, cozy glow against the encroaching darkness. A half dozen or more dishes were arranged before them—pumpkin soup, mushroom skewers, grilled fish caught that afternoon by Colin, freshly baked bread with goat butter from Jaggle’s ranch, apple pie…

Link, of course, had been delighted by the array of foods, much to her amusement, and had even contributed a dish of his own: curried rice—a rare delicacy due to the difficult acquisition of its primary ingredient, Goron spice, which Link happened to have a little of in his bag leftover from their last trip to Goron city. The children of the village had been enchanted by the spicy, aromatic dish, and even mayor Bo had taken a shine to it.

The green glow of sunset fireflies danced just beyond the reach of the torches’ light. After a full meal and several glasses of wine, Zelda felt content and relaxed, basking in the warm glow of her joy as she leaned against Link’s shoulder with a smile, her hand in his, watching the children of the village spar playfully with long wooden sticks in a nearby clearing.

The tapping of metal utensils against glass and ceramic cups echoed through the village for the umpteenth time that night, prompting Zelda to lift her head. Link turned to her, a goofy smile on his face—the same goofy smile she hadn’t been able to remove from hers, as he leaned in and gave her a kiss. Cheers erupted from around the table before quieting back down to a steady murmur of conversation.

As Zelda reached forward, lifting her glass to her lips and taking another sip of wine, Rusl rose from his seat at the end of the table, walking up to the two of them and leaning one hand against Link’s chair.

“So, my boy, Uli tells me you’re handy with a sword!” he said jovially. Link turned to her with a quirked brow, a question in his eyes.

“Ilia asked me how we met, so I told her about when you rescued me from the Yiga,” she said significantly, hoping he would catch the drift of her lie. He smiled in amusement, quickly cottoning on, before turning back to the man with a nod.

“Yes, I am.”

“Well, what do you say to a little sparring, eh? I have heard tale you’re quite talented.”

Link glanced to her, unable to disguise his interest. “Is that alright with you?” he asked her quietly.

She smiled and nodded, but added quietly, “Yes, but go easy.”

However, Rusl heard her quiet caution and let out a barking laugh. “Hah! Give me all you’ve got, boy. I want a challenge!”

Zelda held his gaze significantly and he seemed to understand her unspoken caution as he rose from his chair: You are the sword’s chosen—he does not stand a chance against you. Link nodded reassuringly, heading with Rusl towards the clearing where the children had been playing.

As Rusl equipped the two of them with swords, the children took their sticks to the sidelines as the rest of the village began to rise from their seats and surround the makeshift arena.

“Oh, goodness Rusl, now?” came Uli’s chastising, but humored voice from the table.

“It’ll get his blood flowing for the wedding night!” he shouted back, grinning broadly as he took up position opposite Link. For his part, Link seemed utterly unfazed by Rusl’s comment—then again he did have an incredible poker face. Zelda, however, felt herself flush hot with embarrassment despite the encroaching chill of the nighttime air.

“You’ll have to forgive my husband,” came Uli’s voice from beside her as gentle hands draped a soft material over her exposed shoulders. “He can get a bit… crass, after a few glasses of wine.”

Tugging the shawl around her more tightly, Zelda glanced sheepishly at the woman and offered an awkward smile, attempting to shrug off her embarrassment. “It’s alright, I understand. I do worry a little, though, about their match.” She then turned back towards the arena where Rusl began a charge at Link, which he deftly side-stepped.

“Oh, you needn’t worry dear, Rusl won’t do any serious damage.”

Zelda laughed softly. “It’s not Airen I’m worried about.”

Uli eyed her thoughtfully a moment before smiling. “You have a lot of faith in your young man.”

Zelda nodded, smiling softly. “Yes—I do.”

Rusl attempted another lunge at Link and he deftly avoided it, executing a quick spin and coming around behind the older man, grabbing him around the shoulders and holding his blade several inches from his neck.

“I yield, I yield!” came Rusl’s gasping voice, his sword falling to the hard-packed soil with a loud thunk.

Applause erupted around them, and Link released him, driving his own sword point-down into the earth. He’d barely broken a sweat while Rusl looked exhausted, despite the fact the match had been a relatively short one. Rusl turned to Link, looking impressed as he extended a hand.

“Airen, my boy…” he panted as Link shook his hand, “That was some performance. Uli wasn’t kidding when she said you were talented.”

Link offered a polite smile and a nod. “Thank you.”

He grinned, clapping Link on the back as they walked back to the table, following after the rest of the village. Zelda shook her head, smiling at their antics as she returned with Uli to their seats. As Link came to sit beside her, Rusl took place before his own chair, but did not sit. Instead, he tapped his knife against his ceramic cup, quieting the townsfolk and gathering their attention.

“Friends, I’d like to propose a toast. Caliope and Airen—we here in Deya village haven’t known you long, but already you feel like a part of our community. Thank you both for allowing us to be a part of your joy; and may the Gods smile upon your union!”

“Here here!” shouted Bo, followed by a chorus of cheers from the rest of the table.

Zelda felt her heart swell. She glanced briefly to Link and, in wordless understanding, he nodded; then, they both stood. As the cheers quieted down and Rusl retook his seat, Zelda cleared her throat.

“Thank you, Rusl,” she said with a broad smile. “Thank you—all of you. When Airen and I came to Deya we had planned only for a short, simple ceremony—no dress, no dinner, no guests… But instead you gave us—” she gestured around her with one arm, “all of this; a real wedding.” She felt a knot form in her throat and tears sting her eyes and as she glanced to Link, he squeezed her hand, picking up where she left off.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, that same bright smile gracing his handsome features, “For your kindness—your friendship. We will not forget this.”

“Here here!” shouted Fado, raising his glass. The rest of the table cheered in agreement.

As they both lowered themselves into their chairs, Uli then stood, grinning broadly. “Well, I suppose this is as good a time as any to reveal our last little gift.”

Zelda glanced to Link in surprise, and he looked equally taken aback.

“On the edge of town is my old cottage,” she said softly, smiling fondly. “When Rusl and I got married, he built us a larger house here in town. It’s been empty for years, but we all took turns this afternoon cleaning it up a bit, so you two can have a proper wedding night!”

Cheers and hollers and table thumps erupted around them, with Ilia even giving them a catcall. Zelda felt herself turn red, and to her surprise even Link looked a bit pink in the cheeks.

“Well, everyone,” said Uli with teasing enthusiasm, “Let’s get the happy couple off to their cottage!”

-:-:-:-:-

 

As they neared, Zelda felt her butterflies return. The townsfolk had escorted them to the start of the cobblestone path some fifty feet from the cottage, giving them will wishes and teasing grins before returning to town to finish feasting. Though she and Link had been intimate many times before, they had never made love. Not for lack of wanting to, certainly. As things between them grew more serious, she had begun a contraceptive routine—just to be safe. But there had seldom been a good opportunity, and neither wished to rush it simply for the sake of it. But now… now there was nothing to stop them.

As the front door loomed before them, Link stopped, stilling her as well with a hand on her arm. In the silence of the glade he turned to her, gazing at her meaningfully, then at the door, then at her again.

She knew exactly what he was thinking, and shook her head vigorously, though she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “No. Oh, no you don’t—”

He disregarded her completely, grinning broadly as he stooped and wrapped one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, lifting her up bridal-style in his arms. A laugh bubbled up despite her protests.

“Link!” she squealed, but he charged forward, kicking in the door with his boot and turning his body as he crossed the threshold with her in his arms, shutting it swiftly behind them with his foot. The room was nearly pitch dark, but he somehow found the bed, laying her gently upon it as he sat beside her. Quickly and deftly, he lit the oil lamp left for them on the bedside table, illuminating the room in a dim orange glow.

The single room cottage was sparsely furnished, and its lack of personal possessions made it apparent no one lived in it any more. But the bed was soft and they were alone, so for tonight—their wedding night, it was perfect.

Link kicked off his boots before scooting closer and her heart leapt, anticipating he would lean down for a kiss; but to her surprise he fished around for something in his pocket instead. He held the object in a closed fist in his lap, biting the inside of his cheeks as he often did when nervous. Curious, Zelda sat upright.

“What is it?” she asked softly, hand coming to rest on the wrist of his closed fist. He looked up to her, gaze determined, yet a hint of insecurity lingered in his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can give you all of the things a Princess deserves,” he said softly, gazing down at his fist, “But I will always, always try.” He then opened his hand, and within his palm rested two wooden rings—simple bands sanded smooth and varnished to a shine. He took her left hand, running his thumb over her knuckles before sliding the band onto her ring finger.

“I… asked Jaggle if he would make them. I know we can’t wear them at the castle, at least not on this hand… and I know it’s not much—but you deserve so much more than a blade of grass…”

Zelda felt her hand tremble as the ring came to rest at the base of her finger. Then, she shakily plucked the larger ring from his palm and took his left hand, sliding the band onto his ring finger and holding his palm tightly in both of her hands.

“You’ve already given me more than I could ever ask for,” she murmured, feeling tears well in her eyes. Link’s eyes softened, and he raised his hand to brush away the wetness which gathered at the corner of her eye.

“I love you so much, Zelda.”

“I love you too…” she whispered breathlessly. Link gazed at her, eyes gentle and filled with the depth of his adoration, and she felt an almost magnetic pull towards him. He met her halfway, his lips pressing against hers with a slow, building passion as her eyes fluttered shut. He lowered her to the bed, shifting until he hovered over her. His hands raised to tangle in her hair, thumbs brushing her temples, and she arched into him, feeling a want more powerful than any she’d experienced before—an urgent desire to be one with him in the most intimate sense.

As the lantern burned steadily into the night, so too did her desire, their bodies finding ecstatic harmony with one another. Their voices echoed in the small room—in pants and pleas and intimate whispers—a joining of more than mere bodies, but of hearts; of two ageless souls reborn time and time again who, despite odds and circumstance and adversity, find one another—and fall in love.

And here, in this time and this place, did their two souls finally join within this lifetime. In a quiet, rural village amid newfound friends did they pledge their lives and their hearts—the secret wedding of Princess Zelda to her knight Link; the completion of a life long search, and the start of a new journey—together, as one.


End file.
